Another Bank Holiday Weekend In Style!

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Good Evening One and All, 

So after the latest drama surrounding mine and Mr. Cheese's relationship last week I have has a somewhat change of heart. I don't know what it is but maybe its a culmination of this weekend's events that have left me feeling somewhat very different than how I usually feel when writing to you all on a Monday evening after spending time with the Boyfriend. 

This weekend started off with a bang (or maybe bang-ers is the phrase?!) as it was Miss Bride's Hen Do for the wedding I am photographing at the end of the month. Knowing it was going to be a good night I donned myself in Military fancy-dress for the occasion (a brilliant idea I thought since both of our fathers were in the Army hence our friendship) and headed on down to the station. Strutting my stuff through town and revelling in the honks and beeps from car's I felt like the suspender tights, poofy tutu and leather jacket added extra to my busty camouflage top and Army beret. I felt like I could rule the world. That was until I crossed the road with my massive fat egotistical head thinking I was on America's Next Top Model only to then get a big honk and a enthusiastic wave from my new boss in his car! Hands to my face I thought 'Brilliant, The office will be fun next week!' No doubt if he had a camera I would be joining Lucy Pinder and the likes on the walls of the warehouse where the boys work downstairs from my office. But that wasn't the end of my encounters for the evening - Oh No! Skipping onto a bus go get to the ve-Hen-ue (I'm Awful!) I noticed a short-haired blonde at the back of the bus. Getting closer I nearly died. It was none other than Mr. Workaholic's little sister. I assumed that she hadn't noticed me until we locked eyes and hers grew as a smile invaded my face, grinning with contempt. Arrogance growing it gave me more faith in my skimpy outfit. 

Waltzing into the social-club where Miss Bride and her entourage were starting the evening I was greeted warmly and was prompted to the bar to make a purchase of the alcoholic variety. The first half of the evening was spent by playing games like stick the dick on the donkey and Willie hoopla of which any winners won a vibrator! A truly in-genius idea and one which I have stored in a bank of good ideas for myself later on in life. Apparently the party was so good that we had some unexpected guests. Above our area of the social club there was a 60th birthday party being held however it was obviously a bore since we had several males join us. Not the sort you would want to strip and get naked giving you a lap-dance but nevertheless good sports and even a bit of mild flirting going on to the point of which both mine, Miss Bride's and other Hen's chests were covered in drunken, Biro scribbled phone numbers and autographs. After pre-drinking enough that some of us couldn't stand and in-vainly trying to convince random men from the smoking area to come and get their kit off for what can only be described as loose change we all headed into Town. The night continued well into the night as expected and anticipated but when people started to drop I continued to party with anyone else left standing. The men that had crashed our Hen party had found us in a bar and one had even leaned in to try and kiss me to which I smashed my palm in his face and forcefully said no, reinstating the fact I have a boyfriend. 2am came and went and so did my last train back home to Bedford so I decided that I would continue to party and dance the night away. Bumping into old college friends and faces was fun as well and whilst heavy flirting was going on I was all the happier knowing I have someone at home for me. Eventually as the night continued and more party-goers dropped off like flies I realised I was the last Hen standing and left with three of the stags, one of which being Mr. DJ. 

Calling it a night, all four of us decided to get a cab and that I would be dropped closer to Bedford. Taking my seat next to a lovely gentleman and across the way from Mr. DJ I was grateful for the Cab and not a late night bus or two-hour wait on a cold platform in next to nothing. Once the first stop was made I was grateful also for the one-on-one time I had with Mr. DJ as I felt the need to clear the air after our earlier liaisons in such a vehicle. After mentioning briefly how nice it is that we can just be adults about it all and accept that I don't expect him to romance me further, Mr. DJ agreed adding that we are only humans and we all have needs. Safe to say that as Mr. DJ was dropped off home I was glad for the brush with him. Sunday morning pierced through the window and only managing less than three hours sleep after getting in at 4am I was defiantly feeling fragile. I suppose I'm lucky in the sense that I don't get hangover's but Sunday morning I was worse for wear, in need for coffee and my toothbrush. But I didn't have time to lounge about all day and recover from my escapades the previous evening. I had an event to attend. One of which I would be attending with my boyfriend. One of which I would be also in the company of Momma and Pappa Cheese as well as some of Mr. Cheese's close friends from school and the village he grew up in. Also in attendance was a face I had not met before. The Ex!

Entering the small village hall where friends, family, neighbours and others had arrived to celebrate a birthday party I scanned the building for a face I knew from photo's. I knew who I was on the hunt for and dressed in a floaty (very short) Grecian dress, nude heels and my legs of power on show I was ready for war! Standing by Mr. Cheese's side I was glad for being fashionably late and appreciative for the glass of Prosecco I was handed despite not eating anything for breakfast and still being slightly drunk still from my slutty-soldier antics. Greeting Momma and Pappa Cheese I felt more at ease although conscience that my boyfriend's Ex AKA Miss Cardboard Box was within the vicinity. Ready for action I made small talk with people I knew as the piano played in the background I thought about how out of place it is for someone like me to be at such a formal event. If it was my big six-zero I would be getting everyone on the floor to do the time-warp not sipping fizz and eating crab quiche. 

Striking up discussion with Momma Cheese and a friend of my boyfriends I noticed a figure swoop into position coolly joining us and halting conversation. As if in slow motion and waiting with bated breath I realised that Mr. Cheese was not by my side and that I would have to deal with this introduction alone. However I had my wit, charm and likability to push down the barrel of my gun, ready to fire if required. Taking note that the conversation had now been quashed by Miss Cardboard Box's arrival I looked to Momma Cheese for something to say. She returned the glance as if to ask do these two women know what bond's them. Turning to face Miss Cardboard Box again I shook an extended arm making sure I gave a good firm handshake. In hindsight I feel this is hilarious given everyone else I would hug or French kiss on greeting or departing but for this instance I feel that a good old British stiff handshake is appropriate. Nothing more and anything less. No sooner had Miss Cardboard Box introduced herself and she was gone. It was clear she came over at a point I would be most vulnerable without my man by my side but I held my head high and made sure she knew I was the upgraded, new and improved edition to his life. I was Queen and it felt fucking awesome!

The rest of the afternoon whizzed by in a flurry of speeches, idle chit-chat and awkward conversations with Mr. Cheese's parents that included grandchildren, joining in a family holiday this summer and Pappa Cheese dragging Momma Cheese by her hair like a caveman up to the bedroom after watching an episode of Countryfile. Note to self: If I am ever left in a room with Pappa Cheese and Countryfile is on - Be worried! Sadly I didn't have much more interaction with Miss Cardboard Box however when Mr. Cheese and I went to say our goodbye's I made a point of putting my arm around his waist and laughing at everything he said even if was about something unfunny. Making my territory known was key and I think that with the combination of drunkenness from the previous evening with added Prosecco, the lack of sleep and my insatiable appetite for sex the afternoon I think went better than ever planned in my head. I hope soon that I can arrange some events where by I can play my cards close to my chest and getting to know a little more about Miss Cardboard Box. What do they say about keeping friend's close?!

Speaking of friend's, after departing the most formal party I think I have ever been to in my life, Mr. Cheese and I headed back to London to meet some friends of his for the rest of the weekend and Bank Holiday. An evening with one of Mr. Cheese's old University pal's was informative since Ghana is defiantly on the table for the boyfriend later on in the year. I think it helped, especially since the old Uni-Buddie had gone out to the country a few years prior. Indulging in some Mexican food and talk of the excursion to Ghana made me feel a little pushed out of the conversation for a while, green for the fact I was not invited along on the lone trip and fearful of what it holds for our relationship together with Mr. Cheese. Awkwardness arrived though as the Uni-Friend asked if I was going to be joining Mr. Cheese on his travels even for a short time. Looking at one another I returned my gaze to my plate, pushing around Chimichanga as I waited for Mr. Cheese to answer. He did not. I don't know how to take it but I know the answer is that I wouldn't be welcomed on the African adventure. And so Ghana is still an unresolved though now slightly less scary problem. 

Today however has been a new day and with that brought me a huge epiphany of which I have never experienced before. Although that is a far cry from the following week. Last Monday as you all know, I started my new job of course and once completing my first full week's work I was glad to be finally back in work and have really enjoyed being at the desk and managing work life. I love it and I know I am looking forward to going back tomorrow after the Bank Holiday Weekend here in rather sunny England. Wednesday evening however was not so glorious as the weather. With the settling issues of my previous blog post hanging over me and with Mr. Cheese wanting to talk it out properly I was ready to chat. However after asking simply what Mr. Cheese's agenda was for the weekend and if anyone of his friends he was plotting to see had actually made any concrete plan's I was blown away when he responded by flying off the handle at me stating that 'my stressing was stressing him out'! Last straw! I quite literally went from having a brilliant day at work and enjoying life to fizzing with anger and combined with the mounting feelings from the months prior that still hadn't fully been address I was ready to have it out with Mr. Cheese once and for all. Engaging through heated text's he admitted he was in the wrong and apologised but was almost too late as it seemed a bit half-arse and wasn't fully appreciating the magnitude as to which I was upset. Promising to call me and resolve our differences, I let it stew informing him that it was quite simple and that I don't have to be part of his ever-changing life plan's this weekend. The hours passed and as I curled up into my duvet that night thinking how much of a prick my boyfriend was I heard the voices of close friends mewing the mantra that I always used - If your not happy end it! Drifting off to sleep I knew the time had come to call it a day and break it off whilst still loathing the fact that we were going to bed on a less-than-warm-argument. And so my mind was made. I was going to end it. 

The following evening my phone rang as I was sat reading a magazine. Caller ID defined it as the unapologetic douche-bag. Chirping a hello at the other end I answered coldly. And that was the beginning of what I thought would be the end. I cried and explained everything about how I felt unappreciated, unloved, unwanted and undervalued. I explained how I hadn't really been happy since March when we made it official and that the combination of everything had got too much. I wanted out! Talking it through we made a promise to each other that we would try and make it work and do everything in our power to do so. After all, there must be some reason I haven't given up already before now. Apologising properly I went to bed that night with a tear stain face but with a comment I hold close to my heart. 

Things are better now and after leaving Mr. Cheese with his friends on the Embankment in London this afternoon I feel much better than I usually do. I don't know why. Even after a brief catch-up with Miss Chocolate and Miss Tatts whereby the conversation was all about why I am still with Mr. Cheese and that ultimately I am wasting my time on someone who isn't 'Mr. Right'. You see whilst the conversation went over all the same points Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb go through with me on a nearly bi-daily basis I feel good about my relationship. Yes Mr. Cheese may not be as affectionate as I am and yes Mr. Cheese may not be my future but right now I really like him and want to make this work. I know that the sex isn't that great but that's something we can work on and can be improved. I can change that though. I'll just get on top and make it feel better. I wish he would go down-south on me more and I wish that he would give me some good old hard rough-and-ready but to be honest I think after talking this weekend with Mr. Cheese and discovering more about his earlier experiences in the bedroom department, it kind of explains why maybe things aren't as passionate in the bedroom as I like. The sex isn't awful and its got better over the months we have been dating. I only look forward to the days where we can go whole days spent in bed in a cycle of love-making, inside jokes and intellectual conversations that eventually lead to another round. I like him. I like him alot. I don't care what people say. I still like him. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx